It's Paris. Dont come here for the weather.

It's Paris. Dont come here for the weather.

Parler Paris Nouvellettre^®
Your taste of life in Paris and France
ParlerParis.com
Wednesday, May 12, 2010 • Paris, France

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Dear Parler Paris Reader,

Yesterday was cold, windy, rainy and miserable in the "City of Light." Here we are mid May and out came the wool coat, hat, gloves and umbrella. Ugh. Someone asked me if it was normally like this and I replied, "It's Paris. You don't come here for the weather."

Many years ago a friend visiting the city called to cancel our lunch date because it was raining! "If you let the rain stop you, you'll never leave the hotel room," I laughed. The moral of the story is: Never leave home without your umbrella.

In spite of the torturous environment, the streets were awash with people under their umbrellas and we had a big turn-out to the monthly "Parler Paris Après Midi" ( read all about it at Parler Paris Après Midi)...so clearly, most people have learned to deal with the inclement weather the city is so famous for. I learned later that evening, too, that Cara Black's reading and book signing at The Red Wheelbarrow had a record attendance...all in the midst of what felt like living in a cloud.

While running between appointments to catch a moment at the BHV ("BAY-ACH-VAY") department store -- the "Bazar de l'Hôtel de Ville" -- to shop for a few final and necessary things for "Le Saint-Tropez" and "La Brigitte," I stopped at the new "Daily Monop" on rue des Archives (number 11) to grab a quick lunch. It's a hoppin' spot and one of the city's newest concepts -- the Parisian version of England's "Pret a Manger" which opened in London in 1986. (Isn't it funny that the British chose French words to describe a fast food concept?)

It has taken a while for Parisians to grasp the idea of eating pre-packaged foods at a counter in ten minutes or less. Rightly so and I wish they had never begun.

While my compatriots across the street were enjoying an omelet, "Salade Niçoise," "Croque Monsieur" or "Steack Frites" at the corner café served up by a young waiter who loves practicing his English, I was scarfing down a disgusting Thai salade swimming in oil with no taste out of a plastic package using a plastic fork sitting on a molded plastic stool among a group of people who didn't have time or money for much else. And it wasn't all that cheap, either. Then I tossed all the plastic packaging into the "Poubelle" (trash) which was sure to further pollute the environment before stepping back into the cold rain with indigestion, vowing never to do that again.

Today the sky is every bit as gray and rainy, but the geraniums are loving it, even if I am not. But, it's Paris and I didn't come here for the weather.

A la prochaine...

Adrian Leeds
Editor, Parler Paris

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